Fluvanna County High School Senior Photographer’s Kid Last First Day

My precious baby girl started her senior year of high school today. Anyone who knows me knows that I am typing this through a flood of tears; the first day of school makes my heart ache, ache for the end of the summertime, ache for my babies another year older, ache to send them away all day. And this last ‘first day’ takes the cake. When she started kindergarten, I sobbed, “It is the end of the ‘firsts’.” Silly me! As any parent knows, the ‘firsts’ continued, and today just might be the hardest to date. Many wise people have counseled me over the years, about how school is a chance for her to shine her light in the world, to expand her horizons, and strengthen her character and identity. While all true, it doesn’t make me miss her (and her sisters) any less as I count the seconds until the school day ends. It doesn’t make it any easier to know this was the last morning I got to hug and pray over her (in person) before she left my sight to start a new school year. Despite getting the brunt of my parenting failures and mistakes, she has grown into a magnificent young lady: kind, gracious, conscientious, open-minded, self-reliant…I am her biggest fan, so of course I could go on and on! The depth of my love for her makes it hard for me to breathe. The excitement I have for her future is impossible to contain. Surprise, surprise: This “letting go” business is not my forte. She is my heart walking around outside my body. Please, God, let this world be kind to her, and please keep her path straight. And thank you for the greatest privilege of motherhood!

“I remember the day I first held you in my arms. You became, and I also became. I’d thought about motherhood for a long time, about how I’d be and how you’d be. But I was still so unprepared. Heaven and Earth kissed for a moment and I’d never felt so sure and so uncertain all at the same time. I knew you and I – we’d be okay… Sometimes I wonder if my time is running out to make mistakes. If you’ll turn me away one of these days when I expect too much.  But you keep forgiving me, believing in me, and trusting in me–just like you did when you were an infant. I love you, more than words can say. Thank you for growing up with me. Thank you for loving the most imperfect me, I am so very much better because of you, and I’m learning.” -Jess Johnston